I'm a product of the eighties - I was born in '83, which makes me twenty-six, obviously.  I was always a well-read child; I began reading at the "astounding" age of two and a half, according to my mother.  Growing up in the eighties and early nineties, my bread and butter of literature was the Babysitter's Club series.  I loved those crazy bitches.  After I read and re-read the ongoing series (which, do they still publish new books, is anyone aware?  Even at the ripe old age of twenty-six, I think I'd still be inclined to pick up a new story featuring Stacey and her out-of-control diabetes or Claudia and her packrat-snacking ways), I got a few books into the Sweet Valley series, which featured all-American blonde twins, Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield.  The books, while well-written and popular in certain circles, weren't really my cup of tea, but I had a lot of friends that were positively obsessed.  They had the merchandise, the entire line of books and claimed to have read them at least as many times as I had perused the Babysitter's Club books.

Can you tell if a film was directed by a man or a woman? Are there consistent differences in the directing styles of the two genders? Ashley weighs in.

Did you guys watch the House season premiere on Monday night? I know I did, and it looks like about 16.5 million other people did the same. Hugh Laurie (sans the rest of his crew) ruled the first night back for the networks, drowning Heroes and Dancing with the Stars in lower-than-expected numbers. The competition also seemed to impact Jay Leno's show, which brought in roughly one-third of its week-earlier premiere-night numbers, and posting its lowest ratings so far.

Let's all take a journey back to the early aughts and visit with Tucker Max, a young-ish potato of a man who resembles a little person given growth hormones during their early teens. Max shot to fame in the crazy early years of the millennium when he penned a blog that was basically just a collection of fake stories about having sex with face-less, name-less women and finding new ways of convincing the world that he was incredibly eager to steal the title of "America's Biggest Douche." (I believe him and Dane Cook are currently locked in a contentious lawsuit over who has the rights to that title.) Anyway, the blog eventually got turned into a book called I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell and became moderately successful with people who either reminisce a little too much about the "good ol' days" of high school or were the type of shy, awkward nerds who "reinvented" themselves once they got to college and started wearing head-to-toe Abercrombie and Fitch and would pass out at frat parties after drinking two bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade. In short, there was an audience for it, just like there was apparently an audience for those Real World/Road Rules "challenges" TV shows.

Contrary to what its promoters might have you believe, "Love Happens" is not your stereotypical romantic comedy. It's difficult to decide whether, in this case, that's a good thing or a bad thing. The answer mostly rests on your expectations.

If you are looking for one of those feel-good, falling-in-love-is-so-cute-funny-and-wonderful type of movies, this may not be the movie to see. If you're just hoping for some laughs while looking at attractive people, also this might not be right for you.  Of course, Jennifer Aniston looks fabulous in every scene, but the writers managed to create content that ultimately prevails as more interesting than her appearance. Which is great.